A Complicated Love of Time
by ChocolateBall1
Summary: It's difficult to love someone who doesn't exist...not in your world, at least.


Hermione never told anybody what happened during that time. Not Ron, not Draco. She intended to keep it that way, never to speak the event out loud.

He was intelligent and charming, with a fantastic way with words. The mysterious boy had a modest nature, not unlike Harry, but the way he carried himself through their conversations suggested otherwise. When he spoke it took great concentration to detect the sneer in his sentences, but Hermione didn't mind. In fact, he reminded her of Draco greatly, which secretly pleased her. Here was a boy who wasn't too down on himself, still managed to keep himself modest, and didn't flaunt his intelligence around.

Too bad he didn't really exist.

Tom Riddle Junior, he said his name was. When he had introduced himself through the diary, Hermione could feel the slight venom in his words just by reading it. Perhaps he didn't like his name, she thought. She ignored it though. The young witch was much more fascinated with the seemingly magic diary that could talk to her, respond to her accordingly, and have engaging conversations with her. Riddle was someone she could vent her feelings to without feeling absolutely foolish. It was as if he could understand her. She would write about how bloody stupid Ron and Harry were, or how Draco both infatuated her and made her angry to no end and Riddle would respond with consoling words that would soothe Hermione until she was calm again.

How happy she was, just writing in that little black book and conversing with Riddle every single day. He enchanted her with his own little magic, weaving it through her mind and senses until she was in love with him.

One day, while Hermione was in the library thinking about Tom, it hit her: the book could be _dangerous._ How did she not suspect it before? She was being incredibly foolish, spilling her secrets to someone who didn't even exist! She planned to throw it away as soon as she could, in any way that available to her.

Her last words to him were, "I love you."

She threw the book away in the abandoned girls' bathroom. There was a cry of distress, Hermione thought it might've been Moaning Myrtle, but at that moment, she didn't care. Her thoughts were occupied with her embarrassing confession and how she would deal without Riddle's words of comfort.

Harry and Ron had found the book weeks later. Hermione panicked; what if Riddle told them her secrets? But after a few days, she calmed down. Nothing had happened, and everything continued as normal.

Then she was Petrified. When she came around again, Harry and Ron had already solved the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets. Inside, Hermione was heartbroken. She had given her heart and soul to Tom Riddle and in return he set a Basilisk on her. What did she expect though? Hermione thought bitterly. Riddle was young Voldemort, a man of evil, who wanted all muggles and muggleborns dead. To him, Hermione was no different from anybody else.

She was sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room when Harry approached her.

"He said he was sorry."

Hermione looked up, confused. "Pardon?"

The wizard shrugged. "Riddle. He wanted to say sorry to you."

She didn't have to say anything, not out loud at least. In that instant, when their eyes met, Harry knew what happened. Hermione collapsed into his arms, crying, and Harry was stroking her hair, whispering, "Shh, it's alright. I understand."

Before they left Hogwarts for the summer, Hermione went down to the lake, clutching a glass bottle with a message inside. For a while she just stood there, letting the hot summer breeze blow through her hair. Then she leaned down and dropped the bottle into the river, pushing it down under the water so it would sink. Hermione got up and left.

She would never talk to him ever again.

* * *

><p><em>Hm, hm. What's this?<em>

_ Ah. A message in a glass bottle. Probably to someone's lover. How cliché. _

_ Oh. Looks like it's addressed to me. Now who could it be from?_

_ Pop. The dark haired boy opens the bottle and reads the parchment. His eyes lit up and, for once, a genuine smile finds its way onto his face._

_ His face looks towards the sky and he speaks, as if his words could go into the future this way._

_ "I'll miss you too, Granger."_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I like Tom/Hermione to an extent. It's rather cute. I don't like how this turned out though...although, you guys are probably tired of reading that after every thing I publish, don't you? ; n ;_  
><em>


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